


Even God Rested For One Day

by pvwork



Category: Coraline (2009), Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012), Supernatural, WordGirl
Genre: Fey Creatures, Food, Gore, M/M, Mabel Being Fabulous, Mild Gore, Possession, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvwork/pseuds/pvwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper's kind of excited to go on a long, never-ending road trip with Mabel. They're going to be fighting the good fight. Kicking ass and taking names.</p><p>Enter Norman the hitchhiker who is a grand addition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even God Rested For One Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gravity Falls, Supernatural Crossover](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/33520) by istehlurvz. 



**now**

Norman is screaming like something is being ripped out of him.

The house shudders around them under the onslaught of angry gusts of wind like huge fists being slammed against the walls. Dipper desperately shakes a canister of salt and curses every god he knows and then some.

This was supposed to be a sleepy little town with a sleepy little ghost. Nothing was going according to plan.

"Who are you?" A voice asks, and Dipper turns slowly to look at Norman. His face is awash in a sickly green glow cast by his glazed over eyes. Dipper inhales sharply and tries not to shake too hard.

"No one."

"You're trying to get rid of me! Those ungrateful plebeians are trying to get rid of me after all the things I've done for this town. Ingrates, the lot of you," Norman says, his face contorted with self-righteous fury.

"I-"

"No! Not another word from you," Norman roars.

Norman's skinny, tall body dances over like the puppet of a marionette player on crack, shaky fingers making every move jerky and fast. It's impossible to see the fist as it comes rocketing towards Dipper's face at inhuman speeds, connecting with his jaw and sending him crashing into the opposite wall with a gasp and a thud.

Norman leaves him there in a pool of glass and blood and Dipper can only blearily make out a figure crossing the threshold of the beaten shack before he loses consciousness.

**then**

Dipper's kind of excited to go on a long, never-ending road trip with Mabel. They're going to be fighting the good fight. Kicking ass and taking names.   

This whole thing is going to be an _adventure_. A really good one, hopefully.

"Man, I hope we finally get to meet sasquatch!" Mabel says from the passenger seat. She's got a map spread across her lap upside down and is chewing away at Fruity Greens: Fresh Fruit in a Gummy. "I've been waiting to for _ever_ to ask him about his hair care regiment."

"Yeah, I don't know. I'm not sure I want to be up against something that's super strong and super fast and super mysterious."

"Uh, hello, Dipper, that's where all the fun is."

Dipper decides to hum a response and focus on not driving into a tree.

"Hey! Maybe he knows something about sasquatch!" Mabel exclaims a few minutes later. She's pointing at a hitchhiker dressed in just a red sweater and blue jeans in the chilly autumn weather. His hair seems to exist solely to defy the laws of physics.

"He might be a serial killer," Dipper remarks as casually as he can. He's ready to drive past but Mabel makes a (dangerous) grab for the wheel and pretty much steers them off the road. It's either stop by the hitchhiker or drive into the trees lining the highway.

"I've got a good feeling about this one. Trust me," Mabel says just before the man slips into the backseat.

"Right, so where are you headed?" Dipper says. The road is almost completely empty at this time of day and he worried glances at the mirror to stare into a pair of clear blue eyes.

"I, uh, don't really know. I'm just headed in the direction that you're headed. I'm Norman."

"Ooh, that's a nice name," Mabel says. "Fruity Green?" She adds, holding out the bag.  

**now**

Norman never really said where he was going. He just ended up never leaving, consequently, he had become a constant fixture in the Pines twin's journey east; his presence was both soothing and unnerving.

Every time their investigations stalled, Norman figured out a new detail, found another clue, offered an unseen perspective. It was a mystery how he even knew some things, but he was just so darn helpful it was hard to question just _how_ he found out all the stuff he did.

"Dipper? Dipper, are you awake?"

"No. Leave me here to die."

"Follow my finger," Mabel says, waving it in front of Dipper's face. "Look into this light for me? Now take my hand, and wiggle your fingers."

Dipper just sputters and looks away. Mabel sighs and tries to help him up.

"Norman's been possessed," Dipper whispers into her hair.

"What?" Mabel sputters as she stumbles under Dipper's weight and weaves for the door, his arm slung over her shoulders. The Impala is parked just outside, stunning them with its bright headlights as they step outside. "How? I thought we all had anti-possession tattoos!"

"We've never seen his."

"I thought he was just shy! Why would he hide this from us?"

"We never should have trusted him in the first place," Dipper says. His lips tingle and his tongue is a sluggish in his mouth.

"Three hundred miles too late, Dipper," Mable chides as she gently tries to maneuver him into the passenger seat, buckling him in after a moment of grappling as Dipper tries to get out of the car.

"Yeah, well, we were all a little blown away by his amazing detective skills and electric blue eyes."

"Uh, yeah. I'm sure we all were."

"And his stupid hair."

"Dipper, I think you have a concussion."

"Do not! We have to find him, Mabel, we have to get him back," Dipper says. "We have to ask him why!" He shouts.

"Shh, we will."

Dipper leans his head heavily into Mabel's cool hand pressed against his forehead and blurrily wishes that he still had 3, that he could still flip through its worn and blood splattered pages for answers like he did when he was young. Now he had started to document the strange, dark things he found on his own adventures, but it wasn't the same.

Someone who knew what he was doing had written 3, unlike dumb, foolish Dipper.

"You're not dumb _or_ foolish, Dipper! We'll find him. He can't have left the town, he _has_ to be here somewhere, don't you worry, we'll find him as surely as Brent found Daniela in _Have a Good Dance._ "

"Dumb movie, dumb people."  

"Hey! That one's a classic, I'll have you know."

**then**

"I, for one, am ready for some roadhouse pancakes!" Mabel says as she gets out of the car to stretch luxuriously.

Dipper wants to look at the Great Lakes, polluted as they are, but as he turns to scan the dazzling body of water before him his gaze stutters over the strip of skin at Norman's hip, framed by red flannel and a broad leather belt, that is revealed when Norman raises a hand to shade his eyes against the rising sun.

"Sounds good, Mabel," Norman says. "A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt."

"And pancakes. With sprinkles. And gummy koalas!"

"I don't think roadhouses serve that kind of stuff," Dipper says. Ripping his eyes away to stare at the building before them. All the lights are out.

"Well, they should!"

"I know someone inside, maybe if we ask nicely we can get some victuals and get back on the road in a bit," Norman says with a wry smile.

"Are you serious? 'Victuals'? Are we going out into the desert and fight tumbleweeds with our single bullet handguns before spitting tobacco into a spittoon?"

"Wow, Dipper, calm down."

"Hey, Cat, care to tell Coraline that we're here?" Norman calls out.

A black cat slinks away, disappearing into the shadow of the roadhouse, and in mere moments a short woman with shining blue hair and freckles appears in the doorway.

"Norman! And other guests! Come in, come in. Cat was just telling me about how tall you've grown."

"Aw, Coraline." Norman ducks his head and scuffs his shoe into the gravel of the rough parking lot outside _Some Other_ _Roadhouse_. Dipper's not sure how to feel about how familiar they are with each other as he watches Coraline give Norman's shoulder a friendly shove as he walks into through the door.

"You need to cheer up. It's been a long drive and we deserve pancakes!"

"Whatever," Dipper says as he ducks into the cool dark dining room and pointedly ignores the knowing look that Cat seems to send him.

**now**

The air smells old in this part of town. Old as balls. It carries the scent of half-rotted buildings, long lives, and the wood shavings from genuine wood carvings made by enthusiastic retirees.

The cottage they were pointed to is at the very end of a badly paved road. Dipper's teeth rattle as the dust kicks up under the Impala.

Walking up the steps to the porch warily, Dipper glances back at Mabel's helpless face framed by car windshield. She makes an encouraging shooing motion.

The creaking of a rocking chair greets him as he steps up to the door. He tries to knock politely. Can anyone actually manage to _nicely_ pound on a heavy oaken door? It's through the front window that Dipper catches sight of a monkey on a rocking chair, a shotgun resting across his lap. He grins his big teeth at Dipper and hoots twice.

A big brown eyes appears in the space a chain allows between door and frame.

"I'd like to make an offer," Dipper says.

"Barter, noun, a system of exchange where one item is traded for another. What will you offer me for my services? "

"May I come in?" Dipper says after a pause.

"Well," Becky says, "come on in then. That's the Captain." She points to the monkey with the shotgun.

Dipper steps into a dim sitting room and takes a place on an overstuffed loveseat opposite the Captain, trying to resist the urge to fidget. His head still kind of hurts, but he felt up for this, had told Mabel so just this morning. He doesn't want to back out now.

He drinks the cold tea in the chipped china cup she offers. He looks at the landscape portraits on the walls, all done up in black and red. She lets him stew for half an hour before she returns and he can't even be angry at her because he's come to her to ask for help and this is part of her game, part of the price of dealing with one Becky Botsford.

"What's your offer?" Becky asks upon her return.

"You get another crack at your arch-nemesis, Tobias McAllister the Third."

"Is that the best you can do?" Becky presses her lips into an unimpressed line.

"Isn't that a great offer?" Dipper says.

Becky just gestures impatiently and Dipper knows that he's sold her on at least one point. She was always up for another stab at stabbing Tobias in the ectoplasmic gut

"I brought you a tablet of strange runes carved into stone. Maybe it needs a Prophet. Maybe it just needs your gentle touch and depth of knowledge concerning ciphers and other linguistic mysteries," Dipper says, bringing his trump card slowly out of his bag and setting it on the coffee table carefully.

"Pulchritudinous, adjective, characterized by having great physical appeal. Let me examine it."

Becky picks up the tablet and unravels its wrappings layer by layer. She turns it over in her hands, holds it up to the light, and traces the runes with her fingers. Finally, she wraps it back up and takes it with her down the dark hallway.

The Captain hoots once.

"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Pines," Becky says upon her return and they shake on it. Dipper's sweaty palms press against Becky's cool, dry ones for a moment and he thinks, I was not afraid at all.

"I'm going to bring my most striking Wyclif," Becky announces. "And if that doesn't work, I'll just beat Norman over the head with it until Toby decides to leave."

She leaves for the backrooms a third time.

**then**

Dipper grudgingly admits that Coraline is a very good storyteller. She had this way with her hands that traced each scene in the air, and her eyes held this sparkle that just made listeners want to lean closer, soak up every detail. 

"And then he said, 'Coraline, I can't go on. You'll have to leave me here for the muck monster.' And he just lay in the mud and rolled around in it like a little piglet!"

Mabel squealed and nearly snorted her milkshake out of her nose.

"No way!"

"Oh yeah, Norman is nowhere as dignified as he would like you to believe. He's ridiculous."

Norman was blushing a fetching shade of fire engine red at this point, bright enough to match his red and black flannel shirt. He tries to take a sip of coffee to hid his mortification and turns to Dipper beseechingly.

"Please, make it stop."

"Man, I don't know how to stop all this and I wouldn't want to. It was your idea to stop here for the next two days."

"Norman, don't be such a baby. And Dipper, you shouldn't pick on other people, because Mabel was just about to start up on that time you, a frog, a stick of butter, Bobby the secret zombie, and six pieces of French toast got _involved_."

"No," Dipper gasps and turns to Norman who is grinning at him unapologetically. Mabel cackles and daintily bites the head off of another gummy koala.

"Man, I don't know how to stop all this and I wouldn't want to."

Dipper rolls his eyes heavenwards and asks the Powers that Be, how can Norman's shit-eating grin still have the ability to charm the pants off a plotted plant? Also, why was Dipper cursed forever to be a cutie-patootie and not like a smoldering lumberjack-blacksmith? How many puppies did he not pet enough to be placed in this position?

 

 **now**  

Becky goes down with a quiet groan. Norman's right hand glistens wetly with dark blood and Becky's insides greet the outside world as she tumbles slowly to the cold concrete floor of the warehouse.

"Becky!" Mabel shouts, but it's no use, she's stuck to the wall by glowing green goo.

Tobias' maniacal laugh fills the air and Dipper watches in horror, almost as if it was happening before his eyes in slow motion, as the Captain charges forward with only the cold iron claws strapped to his hands.

"What are you going to do to me you overgrown chimp?" Tobias says, taking even side steps away from Becky's sprawled form.

"What do you think, dickwad?" Dipper finds himself shouting. His only defenses are a flask of holy water in tucked in an inner pocket of his vest, a generic hotel-Bible, and a gun loaded with a single silver bullet.

"So original, young man. You know, in my day-"

"Whatever, old man. Your days are over!"

Tobia jumps back to avoid a particular vicious swing of the Captain's and suddenly freezes.

Dipper takes his moment to start unscrewing the cap to his flask while running over and cracking open the Bible to the appropriate passage. He's pretty glad he learned Latin junior year, because it was coming in handy as he began splashing Norman's still form in holy water and muttering quickly.

He's careful to stand just outside of the ring of runes drawn in black paint splattered across the floor.

Norman's eyes start to glow an unearthly green, and his voice cracks when he begins to growl, gravel and crunching bones and branches of dead trees rattling over cemeteries. His hands become claws and he tries to raise them slowly, the strain showing as the tendons of his neck begin to bulge and twist.

"You don't. Understand." He spits out, lips curled back in an animalistic snarl.

Dipper ignores him and continues to chant, now flinging the nearly empty flask in careful arcs to try and get the last drops out just right.

"You know nothing, boy, you can't see. You don't know what I know. There's nothing to save. Burn. Cure it. With fire!"

The Captain screeches and clinks his cold iron claws against the concrete, the following ringing sound is deafening and only makes Dipper chant more hurriedly.

Tobias bellows, and a fine mist of black dust pours of Norman's mouth and nose, spewing forth from his mouth. His spine arches painfully and then his body crumples to the ground as an angry buzz fills the air and the black dust hovers over his body menacingly before vanishing with a loud _bang_ , leaving behind the smell of rotting flesh and putrid dirt.

"Captain. Captain, take me home." Becky gasps. She's pressed face first into the ground and Mabel is already running forward to help her, no longer trapped by Tobias' strange magic so Dipper steps gingerly into the exorcism circle and helps Norman sit up cautiously.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like a dragon shit a ton of gold bricks in my head, pushing out my brains through my ears."

"Oh, so you're alright after all," Dipper says just as Norman falls into a dead faint, his head lolling limply against Dipper's shoulder.

"Better reevaluate your definition of 'alright'," Mabel calls from across the room. Becky's got one arm slung around Mabel, and another hand clutching her stomach, holding in her guts. The Captain stands by her leg, hooting sadly and touching the blood soaking into her jeans.

"Take me home," Becky repeats

"Yeah," Dipper says as he rises with Norman thrown over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

 

 **then**  

Winter arrives like a slap in the face.

In just a few days time it goes from nippy to downright freezing and Norman is curled up on the only bed in hotel room channel surfing.

Dipper shivers underneath two shirts, two jackets, three pairs of socks, and mittens next to Norman. The cold is seeping into his jeans for Pete's sake!

Mabel emerges from the bathroom fully dressed in layers of stolen flannel and sweaters in a cloud of steam.

"No more hot water," she says sheepishly as she towels dry her damp hair. She turns to plug in the hair dryer and starts combing her hair while humming a dubstep remix.

"Yeah, well," Dipper says mournfully from inside the blanket burrito he is trying to construct from the quilts that usually line Mabel's nest in the backseat of the Imapala, "it's too bad we can't just share a shower."

Norman just nods absentmindedly as he watches a yellow dog being ridden by three hotdog warriors stretch through a labyrinth.

Mabel turns to look at Dipper sharply as if she could possibly hear him from over the wind-tunnel-level of noise of the hair dryer. She clicks off the hair dryer dramatically.

"Tomorrow morning you should shower with Norman to save time _and_ hot water!"

"Yeah, totally," Norman says as he watches a little boy with a white hat scream at a sphinx/gryphon/time-master guru.

"What?!" Dipper exclaims and rolls of the bed, bidding the world a hasty burrito-esque goodbye.

"Huh? What are we talking about?" Norman asks with a start when the dull thud of Dipper's landing causes him to look away from the TV to look for the source of the sound.

"Oh, nothing. Just complaining about the pipes. Not enough hot water," Mabel says casually as she turns on the hair dryer again.

Dipper wiggles helplessly on the ground and his groan of frustration is lost to the whining scream of the hair dryer.

 

 **now**  

"Do you need help showering?" Dipper asks, trying desperately not to be too awkward as he helps Norman into their latest hotel room.

After dropping Becky and the Captain off at the edge of the forest at her insistence (her eyes fever bright and her lips bleeding from the bumpy road as she tried not to cry out from pain) they had checked into a hotel a few miles away from the town.

"Yes," Norman whispers, a sleepy lisp creeping into his voice.

Mabel brings up the rear, marking their windows with protection sigils and beginning to set up a perimeter around the room.

Dipper thinks back to their last exchange with Becky as he helps Norman slip out of his mud-splattered jeans and torn shirt.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Mabel asked, concern making her unusually serious and subdued.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to die from a little jab to the gut."

"I hardly think that you're very serious abdominal wound-"

"The Captain knows what to do, he's been with me a long time and he's no ordinary creature either. He came with me through the fairy rings, you know," Becky said briskly. She stared down at the Pines twins as her eyes began to glow and the trees nearest to her rustled even though the air was still.

"Changeling," Mabel breathed.

"Precisely, Ms. Pines. Now if you would kindly leave my property, I believe our exchange is complete."

"Thank you. You've more than paid your share."

"All in a day's work," Becky said with a quirk of her lips before limping away into the cool shade of the trees.

Mabel's voice brings Dipper back to the present.

"I said, I think a bath might be best."

"What?"

"Norman's basically covered in grim and I don't think he's strong enough to stand on his own for very long. A bath will lessen the amount of scrubbing and standing Norman will have to endure."

"Oh, right," Dipper mutters as he gently steers Norman towards the bathroom. He's left Norman's boxers on for decency's sake but once he's drawn the bath, he helps him step out of those too and helps him into the lukewarm water.

"How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Norman says.

Dipper folds a towel into a pillow for Norman and sits on floor next to the bathtub.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Not really. Just pain, flashes of light, vague feelings of betrayal and hurt. Tobias was a bastard," Norman says tiredly. He closes his eyes and Dipper touches his hair, smoothing back the drooping strands and carding his hair through them as soothingly as he can manage. He remembers his mother used to do that for him when he was sick.

Norman sighs and leans into the touch.

"Tell me a story," he says, voice so faint that it's barely audible. "Help me get him out of my head, off my mind. It's like he's still in my brain."

"Okay, okay, I can do that for you," Dipper says. His brain blanks out at this exact moment, when usually Dipper is an excellent nervous babbler. "Uh, so, _once upon a time_ , there were these twins, a boy and a girl and..."

The story carries itself, making Norman's lips curl up at the corners, because he might know how this story ends but he certainly didn't know how this story began. Dipper embellishes, adds little white lies, trying to avoid certain topics that are Secret. While he talks and talks he shampoos Norman's hair and rinses it and by the time the drain is swirling with brownish water and a streak of dirt mars the perfect white of the porcelain tub, Norman had fallen asleep. Dipper swathes him up in fluffy white towels and for the second time that night lifts Norman carefully into his arms to lay him gently on the only bed in the room.

Mabel is busy typing a recap of the day's events into her computer, but she looks up with a surprisingly soft look in her eyes as she looks at Norman's sleeping form.

"Did you see an anti-possession tattoo?" she asks.

"No."

Mabel hmms a reply and returns to typing.

"You should go to sleep, Mabel."

"In a minute!"

"No, we've all had a long day. I'm taking the sleeping bag."

"Dipper," Mabel says, her eyes are knowing as she looks at him over her reading glasses and she pointedly looks at Norman's sleeping form. He looks so young, Dipper thinks.

"Mabel."

And Mabel sighs, shutting down her computer and standing. In the fading glow of her computer screen she looks at him and he sees how her expression changes incrementally until she finally gives.

She walks over to him and gives him a hug, arms wrapping tight around his ribs and squeezing reassuringly, the pressure reminding of him of how _there_ she is, just how present and important she is to him. Mabel's arms around him remind him that she is alive and kicking and he feels a warm rush of pride and love for his twin sister. She really is the best.

"You're going to have to tell him some time."

"But not now."

She releases her grip on him and pats his cheek.

"You don't need a grappling hook for this. Just fall and have a little faith that you'll land on your feet."

 

**then**

"I want to do this forever," Dipper says into the darkness.

Mabel rolls over in her own bed and turns to regard Dipper.

The angle of the shades drawn over the window of their shared room means that Mabel's face is striped with moonlight and Dipper's is hidden in shadows.

"Nothing lasts forever, Dipper."

"That's true, but I want this to."

Mabel doesn't ask what he means. Instead she looks at him with her deep, gleaming eyes.

 

 **now**

For some reason, the water Dipper gets from the tap tastes gritty, but he drinks it anyway because he is a hotel tap water connoisseur and he wants to experience as many variations of that regional tap as possible.

Norman lays deathly still in the quiet darkness of the hotel room, barely breathing, muddy shoes just a pile half hidden by the bedspread he is tangled up in. He's drooling, and there are dark bags under his eyes. His face is made of too many planes and not enough curves and his elbows are tipped in diamond points. Precious and sharp.

As if he can feel Dipper's warm gaze he rolls over and blinks awake slowly.

Dipper stands across the room, still leaning against the door frame of the bathroom and watches as Norman blearily blinks away a sleepy haze from those stunning baby blues.

"Whaaa?" Norman manages.

"Good morning, sunshine," Dipper says by way of greeting and Mabel appears behind him from the bathroom, breath minty fresh and bright teeth set to stun.

"Boy, do we have some questions for you, Mr. Babcock. Actually, we only have one!" Mabel says as she bounds over and slides smoothly over the covers to sit by Norman's side, back against the headboard and knees all drawn up.

"Why don't you have an anti-possession tattoo? That's the only requirement to become a member of Pines, Impala & Co., you know."

Norman's gaze suddenly sharpens and his shoulders tense visibly seeing as his naked torso is visible. He sits up and clutches the sheets in his lap.

"I-"

"Think carefully now. You better have an _eggs-cellent_ reason, Mr. Babcock, or we might just have to serve you up as Benedict!"

"Oh, Mabel, that was a bit much."

"Shut up, Dipper," Mabel says gleefully as she turns her million watt smile full of teeth at Norman who glances between the Pines a little warily.

"I would feel braver and more coherent if I were wearing clothes," he says.

"Don't try to stall, Mr. Benedict, I mean, Babcock."

Norman looks down at his lap, at his white knuckles clutching desperately at white, white sheets and the color drains from his face as he looks up again, running his hands through his hair and visibly steeling himself to speak. His lips thin and his brow furrows and Dipper almost feels bad for making Norman so agitated but he has to know.

It's not just about satisfying his own curiosity, it's about protecting Mabel because when they decided to hunt the things that went bump in the night they tookprecautions to protect themselves and each other and if Norman was going to jeopardize the shaky safety net they have crafted for themselves, then he was going to have to leave. Didn't matter how much he wanted to stay.

"I speak to the dead."

"Why didn't you just say so?" Mabel exclaims. "We could have really used your kick-butt powers quite a bit during these past few months!"

"That's the thing, I have been. Using my, uh, kick-butt powers," Norman says. He begins to smile wryly. "All those leads I got, that's from asking around or just listening to the ghosts that usually haunt the city. They gossip a lot, you know."

"No, we didn't know," Dipper says dryly. He stays leaning against the doorframe and watches as Norman's eyes turn to him.

"Sometimes, they ask to possess me, for payment. They give me information, I give them a few minutes of time to feel the world again. They get to walk down their favorite street again and hear the birds, get to touch porcelain and glass and metal and smell the grass and eat a macaroon," Norman says.

"And before you protest, I usually have pretty strong mental barriers and I'm careful, I swear, I wear or draw a hamsa to ward against the particularly malicious spirits and I wear protective charms and amulets and crosses. I meditate to center myself. Tobias...was powerful. And I was on his property. He had a lot of control in that situation, but next time I'll be prepared," Norman adds in a rush. "There won't be a next time if I can help it." His eyes become steely with determination.

"So that's why you don't have an anti-possession tattoo," Dipper says, almost to himself. Norman must hear the quiet wonder in his voice because he begins to smile; it's something genuine and a little proud.

"Yeah."

"Mr. Babcock, in light of these recent developments we shall allow you to continue traveling with Pines, Impala & Co. Are there any other secrets you want to tell us? And by 'us' I mean me specifically."

"Uh, I only have one more thing to add. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. And this is only because I think being honest with your company is in my best interest."

"A good choice. I pinky swear, cross my heart, stick a needle in my eye, et cetera."

Norman's eyes only flicker to Dipper for a moment before he's leaning in close to Mabel, cupping his hand around Mabel's ear so that Dipper can't even try to read his lips and reveals something that has Mabel saying a smug little: Oh, really?

"What? What did he say?" Dipper asks, but Mabel only mimes locking her lips and then swallowing the key. "That didn't even make sense," Dipper says.

Instead of responding, Mabel just rolls her eyes and throws an imaginary key at him. Norman just shrugs back under the covers and laughs when Dipper huffs angrily and announces that he will be having pancakes for breakfast and will not be sharing any with Mabel.

"Wait, there's no continental breakfast at this hotel!" Mabel exclaimed.

"That is correct, young grasshopper," Dipper says as he walks out the door. "I have taken the keys to the Impala and am now going to sprint down to the parking lot and drive away to find sustenance that I will not be sharing with the either of you, just like you are not sharing this quote unquote secret."

"We're not really related, we only shared a womb for nine months," Mabel announces.

The watery winter light outside can't even get Dipper down because he's laughing so hard as he runs for the Impala.

 

**then**

It's their last night at _Some Other_ and Dipper has been assigned to dish duty. Coraline is standing next to him and is drying each dish Dipper hands her.

"It's about quality. A good home cooked meal is a pretty even trade for an adventure story, wouldn't you say? But that means we gotta do things the way that make this place feel _home-y_ ," Coraline said.

"You be careful with Norman now," Coraline says, breaking the comfortable silence that had previously only been interrupted by the running of water and squeaking of sponges.

"What? He seems like a pretty solid guy to me. Pretty strong."

"Oh, not like that. He can take care of himself in a fight. I'm just worry about him sometimes, wonder if he's getting enough support, enough care."

"Hey, if you're accusing us of not feeding him, you shou-"

"That's not what I meant," Coraline says. There's an impatient staccato beat to her words that Dipper picks up on and he frowns at the dish he's currently rinsing.

"He's our friend," Dipper says firmly after a few minutes of tense silence.

"And he's important to you?"

"Yes. To _us_."

"That's good."

Coraline doesn't speak again until Dipper is finally taking off the apron and heading up to his room with heavy steps.

"Norman doesn't have many friends."

"We don't really either."

Coraline looks on silently, her hands tangled in the folds of the apron. She looks a little sad as she looks at him.

"Take care, Dipper Pines. Tell your sister that she's been delightful company, the best, and tell Norman to eat more greens."

"Tell them yourself."

"Unfortunately, I know your plans are to leave very early tomorrow, and I will be otherwise occupied. Did you know that tomorrow night is a full moon? So many things to prepare, but anyways, sleep well," Coraline says, and her eyes are very bright in the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

"Right. You too."

 

**now**

"Where are we headed, Head Cheese?" Mable asks. She's practically bouncing up and down on the bed excitedly as they plan the route to their next destination.

"I don't know," Dipper mutters, sprawling across the ugly shag carpet in defeat as he stares at the weird popcorn effect dotting the ceiling. Everything in this hotel is so retro.

"I'm partial to visiting Coraline again."

"I'm not," Dipper says.

"How about somewhere new?" Mabel suggests. She's produced burrito chips from somewhere and is munching away happily.

"Lunch. Good idea, can you go get us lunch? I got us breakfast," Dipper says, his eyes are big and pleading and Mabel looks at him like she knows something's up but she slides off the bed willingly enough, abandoning her bag of chips in favor of juggling her phone and her shoes and a scarf to combat the new spring breeze.

"Burritos!" she cries like a war cry and storms out the door.

"Norman, you need to be more opinionated about where we're going next. Otherwise we're just going to end up going wherever Mabel wants."

"See, _I'm_ fine with that."

"Norman!" Dipper says, channeling his inner scandalized socialite to the best of his abilities. He gasps dramatically for effect.

Norman looks down at him from the bed with an affected unimpressed expression.

"Darling, please don't do things like that to me," Dipper says breathily.

Instead of breaking out into a smile Norman looks pained instead.

"Was it something I did?" Dipper asks, pouting his lips, but at this point he just feels like he's grasping at straws here because Norman completely withdraws over the edge of the bed instead.

"Wait, really? I'm sorry! Uh, I'm sorry that what I did was offensive. I'm sure not all well-to-do people actually talk like that!"

Dipper scrambles to sit up and peer over the bed but Norman is laying face down on the bed, apparently trying to smother himself in an extra fluffy pillow.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. Was it something I said? I'll stop. Anything you need."

"No. It's the way you _are_ ," Norman says, and he sounds frustrated and angry and sad all at once and Dipper suddenly feels terrible for whatever awful thing he's done to Norman. Coraline warned him about not being an ass to Norman and then he'd just gone and done something horrible anyway.

"I'm sorry. I, uh, I can change? Baby, give me one more chance?"

Norman groaned in the pillow like he was hoping that if he just breathed out all the air in his lungs things would be _better,_ and he wouldn't, like, suffocate.

"No, no, tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it," Dipper says. He's hoisted himself onto the bed at this point and is crawling over the maps and nearly gets stabbed in the knee by a sharp pencil before he finally reaches Norman's sprawled form. Dipper shakes his shoulder. "I'll stop whatever it is I'm doing, I promise. I don't want you to be sad."

Norman rolls over suddenly and stares up balefully at Dipper with those startling blue eyes of his, like stars Dipper thinks faintly.

"I don't think I would like it very much if you stopped being _you_."

"Wait, you don't like everything I do, but you don't want me to change even though the way I act upsets you?"

"You don't upset me! That's the thing! You make me ridiculously happy. I _like_ being around you, but you're so. You." Norman gestures helplessly and he bites his lip in frustration and he ends up throwing an arm over his face to hide his eyes and curls up around a pillow as he turns away from Dipper.

"Aw, no, you can't just do that, leaving that cliffhanger of an explanation. Tell me what's wrong," Dipper says. His hands tug at Norman's arm and he manages to wrestle Norman until he's at least facing Dipper again. "Please?" he breathes, bringing his face down close to Norman's just in case he's peeking at Dipper through the gaps between the fingers splayed across his face.

"You're unattainable! You've got this huge heart and you split all your love between your amazing twin sister and your, admittedly, pretty sweet car and you're talented and smart and funny and, God, don't make me go on, listening to myself is a pain. I _want_ you. But you're this super badass hunter and I'm just this guy who talks to dead people! When I look at you, I feel like when you look back you _see_ me, like you acknowledge my weakness and appreciate my strengths. And I like your friendship. And Mabel's friendship. And tha-"

But Dipper's putting a hand over his mouth.

"Okay. Okay. I'm stopping you," Dipper says and Norman's face kind of does this complicated crumple where his brow wrinkles and he frowns and Dipper can feel his lips brush the palm of his hand.

Dipper suppresses a shudder. This is it. This is his leap of faith.

"And now I'm going to kiss you! Blink once for yes and blink twice for no."

Norman closes his eyes very slowly, very deliberately, and when he opens then Dipper can feel his smile unfurl against his palm. He feels an answering smile spread across his own lips, and then Norman is using his height and weight to his advantage and pushing up against Dipper's hand, flipping them so he's pressed against the length of Dipper's body and taking up his space and filling his head with his stupid shampoo and scratching his neck with his scraggly scruff and kissing him with his stupid red lips and making Dipper feel love-stupid.

"You're hair is dumb," Dipper says, after they break apart, brushing his thumb across Norman's cheek and smiling when Norman scowls at him and mutters about how Dipper's face is dumb. "And you're one of the bravest people I know, facing death every day and placing yourself in danger and, wow, mortality must never leave your mind when you work, but you work so _well_. And you're smart and Mabel likes you, hey, don't laugh, that parts really important! Levels you up like by at least seventy or something. And you know your way around the Impala, and she purrs when you drive and..."

"Are you sure it's not you purring when I ride you?" Norman murmurs into his ear and Dipper wants to say that blood is rushing to his face, but that statement wouldn't be _strictly_ accurate.

"Burritos!" Mabel screams as she opens the door and stops just before stepping across the threshold. "You guys! I had plans for that map the two of your are currently trying to christen with, uh, whatever it is you were going to do."

"Well, we're not going to do anything anymore," Dipper mutters and Norman laughs at him and hesitantly presses a kiss to his nose, a little clumsy and unpracticed, but Dipper smiles because he's looking forward to a day when the motion will be smooth and familiar (and still make his heart swell with _adoration_ ).

"Come get these burritos while they are still slightly above room temperature!" Mabel says, placing a bag full of take out on the little table at the other side of the room.

When Dipper draws closer, Mabel pounces on him and draws him into a hug.

"I'm happy for you," she says into his ear.

Norman laughs and it's bright and brings to mind impressions of a warm hearth, logs merrily crackling within warm flames. Dipper looks at Mabel chowing down on a burrito the size of her head and Norman deciding between mild and extra spicy hot sauce and thinks: This is my kind of forever.

**Author's Note:**

> The Parapines bug was in my head already by early this summer and I've always wanted a write a really badass!Wordgirl. The unnaturally high number of breakfast foods involved happened because part of this was written during the wee hours of the morning.


End file.
